Stratford

Well, I'm back from my first trip. I went to Stratford-upon-Avon to see the Royal Shakespeare Company's production of King Lear. I ended up taking a train to Stratford, which I enjoyed. Despite the fact that I was across from a guy loudly chewing his Burger King and near an overindulgent grandmother and her adorable screaming grandchild, I really liked going via train. The ride was much smoother than it would have been on the highways, and I got to see all the scenery and kick back.
Stratford itself was gorgeous. I walked along the river for a lot of the afternoon, seeing all the statues of Shakespeare and his characters. It turns out the RSC owns a lot of the riverfront, and they put a walk in, and even a big garden.
Unfortunately, the play wasn't so hot. I haven't read the play in a while, but I knew what the characters were saying the majority of the time, so that wasn't the thing. I didn't find the Lear believable. Most of the actors were good - a few were more interested in hitting the meter and making it sound good rather than believable - but for the most part they got the character across. Okay, Edmund sounded somewhere between American and Scottish, and I didn't like that he directed the soliloquies at the audience, but that's probably the director's fault.
But the Lear said everything pretty much the same - he had the same intonation for the division of the kingdom, the insanity, and the grief, except insanity was a littler higher pitched and longer, and the grief was deeper. The first thing Lear says after carrying Cordelia's body in is "Howl. Howl. Howl. Howl." - and that's pretty much how the actor says it. Maybe he was going for stiff upper lip, or trying not to overact and be subtle and understated, but there's nothing subtle about losing a child. If that scene, I think one of Shakespeare's most heartbreaking, does not make the viewer weep and feel the weight of the tragedy, then there is something wrong.
That said, two of the actors I really liked (Kent and the Fool) are the leads in Antony and Cleopatra, which starts running in April, so I might go back to see them.

Oh, the gift shop!
The gift shop was everything a consumerist Shakespeare-nerdy girl could ever hope for, and I think what my parents have been dreading. Luckily I made my purchases in the interval, because they weren't open after the show. I wasn't expecting it - APT has theirs open all the time - so future travelers to the RSC, take note! Buy, buy buy, and do it early. I'm thrilled, and in love with my purchases.

And I also had two good nights of sleep in a row! Amazing. I love vacations.

Hobnobs

This blog is dedicated to Miss Becca Johnson. She told me to try Hobnobs as "One nibble and you're nobbled!" is there tag line and they are fantastic. Well, as a reward for having to spend several hours at the airport and not actually flying anywhere, I bought some last night and discovered that they are in fact fantastic. They are like digestives (which are tea cookies) except they have oats in them and chocolate on the top. The oats allow me to pretend that they are somewhat healthy while the chocolate...well, it's chocolate and chocolate makes everything better. Plus, the came in a handy resealable pack, so I can take them on the plane tomorrow. Because I WILL be on a plane tomorrow. Thanks Becca for the suggestion! :)

Spain Part 1: Flight Cancelled

That's right. Our flight which was supposed to leave Thursday night for Madrid was cancelled due to an air strike in France. This meant that no one was watching the air over France and therefore it was unsafe to fly over. I guess being stuck in London is not as bad as dying in a fiery crash over some random part of western France. However, it wasn't exactly fun standing in a giant line waiting to get to customer service, while also struggling to get through to a customer service person on the phone, and calling our hostel in Madrid to cancel our reservations. We finally managed to get a person on the phone and Alex and I had transferred our flights to Saturday morning, when Alex's phone ran out of money and she got cut off leaving Adam, Lauren, Beka, and Mike looking for another route. By the time we reached the counter, EasyJet (with whom we were flying) only had flights on Monday. So the other four found a flight on British Airlines that went to Barcelona late Saturday morning. Our original plan had been to get to Madrid Thursday night, hang out in Madrid Friday, then fly to Barcelona on Saturday. Alex and I will be flying to Madrid, hanging out at the airport for a few hours before flying to Barcelona while the four will be flying straight there. Hopefully. But although all of this majorly sucked, we all had each other for company and managed to keep a positive outlook on things, especially Adam, who I now call Mr. Optimism.

So....as we are not ones to sit idly by (this excludes the guys of course), Alex, Beka, and I went off exploring in London today, determined not to think about how we should be in Madrid. First, we went to the Sir John Soane Museum which is probably the coolest museum I have EVER been to. It is this guys house and all the random junk (like paintings by Turner and Hogarth and a ring with a lock of Napoleon's hair) that he collected. He designed his house so it could kind of be a museum, mostly for all of these marbles (as in blocks of classical buildings) he had. But he also has paintings, books, a sarcophagus, furniture, statues, and much more. All in a house that is in a line of houses along Lincoln's Inn Fields. In other words, this house is not one of those grand country houses you see in period drama movies; it is a city house and if it wasn't a museum, each floor probably would have been divided into flats and sold to multiple people. Needless to say, it is squishy. I had to put my large purse in a provided plastic bag so I wouldn't accidentally hit something, which I totally would have. It is the weirdest, yet coolest museum I've ever been to and I would highly recommend it to anyone who visits London.

After having lunch at a cute pub that insisted on playing 90s pop music along with the accompanying music video, we went to the British Library. I've been once before, but as my mother will attest, I wasn't all that enthusiastic. I was 14 and there really wasn't much that captured my interest, especially not a bunch of old books. Now, as an English major, I think it is a requirement. They have Beowulf, Milton, Spenser, Shakespeare, Austen, Charlotte Bronte, Hardy, Wordsworth, and a special display of a collection of many editions of Alice in Wonderland, including sketches of some costumes appearing in the new Tim Burton version (coming to a theatre near you soon!). But what I loved the most was the illuminated manuscripts. I wish they still made books like this because I would have 5 million of them, and I really don't need any more books. The illustrations are sooooooooo beautiful especially the ones from Asia and India; the European ones just looked pathetic next to them. And, I had a very English nerd moment when a tour guide near us was talking about Sir Philip Sydney, who introduced the sonnet and she couldn't remember how many lines were in a sonnet. She and the group decided on 12, but I turned to Beka and said, "Wrong. There are 14 lines: 3 stanzas of 4 lines plus a 2 line couplet." But I didn't tell the tour guide this as I didn't want to embarrass her in front of her group.

So cross your fingers for us that our plane leaves tomorrow! We have to get up at 4 am to make a 7:35 departure, so they better not cancel it again so I will be most seriously displeased.

I Am the Walrus

Oh jeez, oh man! Brighton is one rocking place. Before going, I never understood Lydia Bennet's fervor in journeying forth to this coastal metropolis. I have seen the light, and now have a new sympathy for the youngest and most annoying Bennet. As one friend advised, "In Brighton, you must drop your handkerchief whereupon a member of the regiment will pick it up for you, and you will promptly marry him and live happily ever after." Although no such miracle occurred, I did enjoy myself doing what the love-scorned do best: eating chocolate. After a stop at the fudge shop, the chocolate-covered Belgian waffle kiosk and the cupcake confectionery, I was one hyper, happy girl!
Luckily this was after our tour of the Royal Pavilion and so the guide didn't have to deal with me bouncing off the walls and OH MY GOD I WANT TO LIVE AT THE ROYAL PAVILION! Windsor Castle is amazing, but gloomy in comparison to Brighton's Arabian Night's themed palace. Once inside the palace, we were no longer in Saudi Arabia as we were transported into all things Chinese. Fake bamboo accented the Chinese garden main hall, while massive iron dragons held up huge chandeliers in their rather sinister mouths. Rich colors and the use of many large windows (some stained-glass) added a light, cheerful and exotic tone to this huge but homey pavilion.
After the tour, I ran around the beach wearing off my sugar high and trying not to freeze. Being a coastal town, it reminded me a lot of Florida, only substantially colder. Interestingly enough, the beaches of this shoreline do not consist of sand, but of rocks...I forgot the technical name...shoal, perhaps? Thus, one would imagine it's not quite as comfortable to lie out on a sunny day. Nevertheless, this beach is exquisite, lovely smelling and terribly romantic. And it would be even more romantic if it was a good 40 degrees warmer. Ah well. We had sun that day...I can't be too needy now can I?

Sunday I went for a walk in Hyde Park as I do, and passed over a lovely bridge that reminded me of bridges near the Park Way in Minneapolis. Nostalgic moment. Ok. So I wandered down a quaint path and towards the direction of Speaker's Corner. Now there were three gents speaking on the day I went: one was speaking quite intelligently albeit idealistically about using money allocated for bombs on education instead. His motto: "Educate the future, don't kill the future!" To which I say, wouldn't that be nice?
The second bloke was a bit more, well, I don't want to be judgmental, but he was quite set in his ways. He was telling a bunch of Muslim people that the Qur'an is complete and utter rubbish because it's been proven that the Bible is not only factually accurate, but the only truth. My response: Uh crazy man? (there goes my attempt not to judge), 1. They basically tell the same stories, and 2. There's a reason it's called faith. You can't prove it, but you believe it anyway. That's kind of the whole point.
The third man was intensely amusing as he was swaying to his head phones and occasionally saying to newcomers, "silence is the most important voice. Only by being silent will you learn." Not surprisingly, most of the audience found the squirrel eating the man's food at his feet to be more absorbing.

Monday was Billy Elliot, and it was FROCKING AWESOME! Seriously, you need to see it. As Shannon mentioned this kid had to do tons of routines while singing and acting. Watching him, I not only wanted to adopt him for my little brother, but I also felt incredibly inadequate knowing that I could never do that. What I found most amusing about the night were the scenes in which the clearly classically trained little dancers had to pretend to be poor ballerinas. Ironically, their "bad" looked better than my good. C'est la vie. Anyhow, it was a truly spectacular musical, the choreography was superb and I had a smile on my face the whole time. Well, except for the sad parts at which I was bawling. How embarrassing. Parental unit - I am looking forward to seeing it with both of you. You're going to love it, Dad!

Tomorrow I have midterm and a paper due, Thursday is my violin lesson and then I'm off to España. Or in a Spanish accent, "¡Vamoth a Ethpaña!" Loads more when I get back from Barthelona y Madrid.

Besos,
Lauren

P.S. I just bought a plane ticket to Galway for £10! Eep!

Billy Elliot

I thought my previous entry was going to be the last before Spain but I can't help writing about the fantastic musical we saw tonight. Billy Elliot. What can I say? Best musical ever? Not really, but it was the best dancing I've ever seen in a musical. And did I mention the dancer was only a 12 year old boy? This kid could do ballet, tap and backflips like you've never seen. Not only that, he would do dance routines that were 10-15 minutes long without looking tired while still singing and doing some dialogue. And he kept this up for 3 hours having a total of maybe 4 really big dance numbers, plus some smaller ones plus an all-cast encore where everyone wore tutus. They have four kids that switch off playing Billy, but still, there is so much choreography and so many lines that it must be absolutely exhausting. But if I could dance half as well as this kid, I would die a happy woman.

Brighton, Greenwich, and Football

Friday we went down to Brighton. Being by the sea was awesome and sunny, but not warm. The wind was pretty brutal, but the sea air was good for me I'm sure. Afterall, that is why aristocrats went to Brighton; it supposedly improved their health. Anyway, we visited the Royal Pavilion which was built for King George IV who was Prince Regent at the time and better known as Prinny. It is an amazing building and gets bonus points for the shock factor of seeing a very Indian style building in England. However, the inside is all decorated after the Chinese with bamboo painted on the walls and dragon chandeliers. It's beautiful, but apparently not enough for Queen Victoria who hated it and sold it and used the money to build Osbourne House. After the tour, we wandered around looking at all the cute shops and going in some of them (for fudge and cupcakes of course). Then we went back down to the sea. It was super windy as you can see by my hair and Lauren's. I'd definitely like to go back there when it is warmer.

Yesterday we took a boat down the Thames to Greenwich. We had absolutely clear blue skies which was awesome. Greenwich is very water based so most of the museums and buildings there are somehow associated with fishing or the navy and so on. And of course, this is where the Prime Merdian was established so that there could be acurate time kept all around the world, especially at sea. Since there was so much sea trade through Greenwich, it was chosen to be the official timekeeper and Prime Merdian, although France kept Paris as their Prime Merdian until the 1970s. How French of them. So we climbed to the Royal Observatory and took the mandatory straddling the Prime Meridian tourist picture. And since it was a clear day, we had the most amazing view. Then Maggie and I went to the Queen's House, which was the first Palladian style building built by Inigo Jones. It was orginally started as a gift for the wife of James I, but she died suddenly and it wasn't completed until Charles I came to the throne and gave it to his wife. How do I know all this? I happen to be doing a presentation for my History of London class about architecture. Anyway, there was a small art gallery there which was mostly of ships and sea battles. We also went to the Greenwich Market which was full of really cool stuff including cupcakes. We've made it our mission to sample as many cupcakes as possible on our trip. We've decided this is a very fine mission.

Finally, this very busy weekend concluded with a football match: Fulham vs. Birmingham City. Fulham was the home team but we were sitting in the Neutral/Away section which was behind one of the goals. It was a really good match with Birmingham City scoring first very quickly, although it was actually an own goal when Fulham accidently headed it into their own goal. Each team had many opportunities to score, but Fulham didn't tie it until the second half. Then everything got a lot faster and a lot rougher until Fulham got fouled just outside the box and scored off the kick. This happened in the 90th minute, so Birmingham City only had the stoppage time to tie it again, but they couldn't. The fans were awesome and there were a lot of chants and yelling at the players and the referees, but since the home team won in a dramatic finish, nothing got too out of hand. I really liked it despite the fact it was a little cold, and I'd happily go to another game.

Lauren and I are off to Madrid on Thursday with4 other people in our group, so it may be quiet for awhile unless we manage to find an internet cafe where we can give an update. Ciao for now!

My Artsy Side Part 2

Today I took the short train ride out to the Dulwich Picture Gallery. This is the gallery my mom interned at when she lived here *cough cough* years ago. It is a smaller gallery, but still has a lot of famous painters. My favorites were by Gainsborough, Rubens, Canaletto, and Jan van Huysum. Gainsborough's are usually portraits of people, but I always like their clothes which are usually flowy and ruffly. His brushwork is very Impressionist-like too. I like Rubens because of his female nudes (which he takes every opportunity to paint). The women he paints are normal looking (aka not anorexic!) which is not a common thing to see nowadays. He also usually paints mythological scenes and stories. I love me some mythology. The Canaletto was of Venice of course. It was amazing because of the extreme detail of the buildings and the gondolas. It made me want to go there right now! Although, I always want to go to Venice. Finally, Jan van Huysum paints really cool still lifes of flowers. They are painted on a dark background so the vibrant colors of the flowers really stand out. Plus he includes bugs and butterflies crawling over the flowers which are fun to look for and add a realistic touch to the already breathtakingly realistic flowers.

Also, a shout out thank you to my grandma for sending me chocolates and snacks! Happy Valentine's Day!

My Artsy Side

Today I went to Apsley House which has been home to the Duke of Wellington since the end of the Napoleonic Wars. The first Duke of Wellington was the one who led the victory against Napoleon in the Battle of Waterloo, and frankly you can't escape him in this city. He was thought of as a god because of his leadership and defeat of that big (not height-wise of course) tyrant guy you may have heard of. Weirdly enough, Apsley House is full of statues, paintings, and other reminders of Napoleon. Either the first Duke of Wellington had a secret crush on the guy he defeated or his friends wanted to surround him with reminders that he was more powerful than the formerly most powerful emperor in Europe. Anyway, the house was donated to the Crown in 1949 when the seventh Duke of Wellington realized that they didn't have the money to live in it and keep it up. The current and eighth Duke of Wellington still lives in it I believe, but mostly it serves as a museum with a huge collection of fine paintings, some by famous artists, some copies of famous works, and others by people I've never heard of, but that were pretty none the less. The most painting there is The Waterseller of Seville by Velazquez (I know, him again). However, unlike Velazquez's Venus painting at the National Gallery which didn't float my boat, this painting did...perhaps it was the water. I had thought it was pretty cool ever since I studied it in my art history class I took freshman year (gasp! I know! I'm just like my mother! Except that is the only art history class I will take...not including the mandatory one I'm taking now). Anyway, if you don't know this painting, look it up and you will see an older guy giving a young boy a glass of water, but in the background, there's this shadowy, ominous third guy that people like to argue over and debate what the hell he represents and why he's there and such. Mostly, I find him interesting because he is looking directly at the viewer in this accusing way which I think is interesting because the two main guys aren't making eye contact with us or with each other. So although we can barely see this third guy, he is the one who draws us in. Aren't you proud, Mom?

However, my favorite piece of art in the house was this giant statue of Napoleon. I couldn't take pictures in the house, so the picture I've included is from Wikipedia, but there was no way to describe this imposing statue without a visual. When I first walked into the vestibule at the bottom of the stairs, I wasn't really paying attention and I nearly jumped when I noticed this huge statue. Napoleon commissioned it (because his ego could always use one more statue of himself), but by the time it was finished, he was on the verge of losing his empire. He didn't like the way the statue portrayed him because he thought it didn't look calm enough. The most interesting part though is the orb in his hand. No one knows if it victory turning away from him or if it is peace turning her back on him. Either way, not good. I liked it because you could admire it from every angle as you made your way up the stairs. Sadly, there was no postcard of it either. I have been collecting postcards of my favorite works of art from museums I've been to and I was disappointed there wasn't one of Mr. Ego in the stairwell.

So ends my artsy ramble. I really like going to grand houses (in case you hadn't noticed) and looking at the impressive ceilings, chandeliers, staircases and art. After Apsley House, I walked to Harrods and walked around the food hall looking longingly at all the chocolate and pastries. Then I stopped at a charity shop and got some books. I really like the charity shops here because, besides having cheap books, they have clothes and shoes and other random things that you don't need, but really want. The best thing I've bought at a charity shop was on the Isle of Wight and was this ridiculous painting of a cat (very 50s according to my mom who was lucky enough to get a viewing of it via Skype). I love it. After that, I just wandered around heading in the general direction of my flat. This led me, quite accidentally, past the Anglesea Arms, which is the pub known to be the haunt of one Hugh Grant. Alas, I did not see him, but now that I know where it is, we might go. This weekend is going to be relaxed as we have no trips planned, but this will allow me to explore some of London. Perhaps I will go up to Camden Market tomorrow. The possibilities are endless. :)

Seduced by School

Bonjour mes amis!
I'm going to start this long-winded, yet only vaguely detailed post by reverting all the way back to last Friday, when my program took us to Oxford. As Maggie mentioned, Oxford represents all that is groovy. From associations with Harry Potter and His Dark Materials, to ancient Gothic architecture and a vibrant college atmosphere, this place is sacred ground. After touring the beautiful cathedral and Christ Church College, I wandered around the town a bit, noting the lovely and comfortable aura. You know that feeling you're supposed to get when you step foot on the college campus that's right for you? I definitely got it at Oxford. Of course. One of the hardest schools to get into, as well as one of the most expensive. Figures. That didn't stop me from perusing the prospectus, however. Fifty minutes later I knew what I wanted to major in at graduate school...that is, until I realized that I never intended to go to graduate school in the first place. Damn you, Oxford! You've hoodwinked me with your charms! I've been seduced by a school! Oh dear, that's rather pathetic, isn't it?

And moving on in what is the most brilliant segueway of the year, I went salsa dancing three times this week! Well, two times at an actual club; once was at the salsa club of Imperial College. In one week I learned so much, sustained minor injuries, met wicked cool people, wore out my shoes, and had an absolute blast. If you're thinking right now that this sounds like a lot of social time for my recluse self, you would be correct. This weekend I am anticipating a quiet and uneventful few days full of much sleep, homework, practicing and tea drinking. It will be lovely!

In other news, I got a call back for Imperial College's radio play production of "Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy" and I found out I got the female lead! Before the read-through, I had never gone near the book, naively placing it in the dorky science-fiction category in which I had no interest. I was mistaken. This book/movie/radio play is absolutely hysterical. Seriously, if you haven't read it, go to the library and pick up a copy. I'm serious. Do it. Now. So after finding out I got the part, I decided I should probably do some research on my character, Trillian, whom I found out is a calm and sensible neurologist. Sounds a lot like me, huh? Preeeeeeetty funny. Anyhow....

I'm depressing myself with the terrible writing I am exemplifying in this post. Plus, I have a violin lesson I have to get to.

Salut,
Lauren

food baby

So on Friday we had a group trip to Oxford. Britt, our fantastic tour guide, showed us around a couple of the different colleges in Oxford University. We spent most of our time in Christ Church college, which is the one founded by Cardinal Wolsey in 1525. We saw some places that were in the first Harry Potter movie, such as the dining hall and the staircase where McGonagall met the first-years. Britt is a huge Harry Potter fan, so she was more than happy to tell us all about it. We saw the cathedral within Christ Church, which was beautiful. They had some pre-Raphaelite stained glass (I don't know what that means really, but both Shannon and one of the guides were excited about it), and the window of St. Frisewide was fantastic. We saw some of the places where people such as Lewis Carroll, C. S. Lewis, and J. R. R. Tolkien slept/ate/sat/etc. I ended up ill for part of the trip, but what I saw was beautiful and historical, and I loved it.
Saturday we all went salsa dancing at the Cuban over in Camden. It was a pretty good time, with some good music - lots of Juanes and some Shakira. There were some creepy guys, but I used a combination of poor dancing skills and kung fu to keep them at bay. And they couldn't tarnish the fantastic time we had dancing together.
Today we had lunch at Maggie Jones, which is this awesome traditional English restaurant down the street from our flats. The meals were huge, and I had the best mashed potatoes I have ever had in my life. I now need to sleep off a food baby, so I'm going to try to nap.

Westminster Abbey!

For History of London we went to Westminster Abbey and our professor acted as a tour guide. It turns out he trains tour guides in some of the history and stuff, and he wore the little blue pin which means he's certified to tour us around. He's very knowledgeable. I'd like to adopt him and bring him back, but I think if I took him out of his natural element (explaining London history to us) some of the magic might be gone. Anyway.
I love love love Westminster Abbey. We got to see the oldest official portrait of an English monarch, which was a portrait of Richard II, from the late 1300s, which was done on wooden boards and showed how he kept up with French fashion. I believe this was mainly due to his shoes, which were pointy. The entire background was gold, and I don't know if it was gold leaf or special paint or what, but it was very flashy.
We saw the marker for the unknown warrior, and he explained a bit more of the history behind that, since England was one of the first countries to do that. In WWI you wouldn't do anything with dead bodies, and they'd just sit in trenches and the opposing side would keep lodging shells at you, and eventually the bodies got blown to bits and mixed with the mud and everything. There are apparently an inordinate amount of bone fragments in France, with no identification, and sometimes the only indication that a person even existed would be a pair of dog tags. But a lot of people wanted to have something to fix their grief on - without a body or funeral or proper gravestone, it can be difficult. So the tomb of the unknown warrior is in Westminster Abbey with plastic poppies all around it.
After that bit we went to Radical's Corner, which isn't necessarily for radicals as much as members of the Labour party. Professor Makey said it was people who went against the grain of thought in their time.
We saw the science area, with Herschel, a giant gold monument for Newton, and a grave for Darwin. One of the Anglican bishops at the time explicitly asked for Darwin to have a marker in the Abbey, to show that his theories did not conflict with the Church and its teachings. I thought that was pretty darn nice of him.
We saw where the coronations take place, which was being retiled at the time. There's a very ornate mosaic which had been covered up with a rug, and now they're fixing it.
We saw the largest monument in the place, which was dedicated to the Lord Chamberlain during Elizabeth I and Shakespeare's time. I believe he was actually the patron of Shakespeare and Burbage's company (the Lord Chamberlain's men).
We saw the tombs of a bunch of kings. The most notable (I thought) was the tomb of Edward the Confessor, the last recognized Anglo-Saxon king. He was pious and pretty much everyone liked him, and he was he one who put the plans for Westminster Abbey in motion. It was finished a week before he died, and he was brought in to see it, and was buried there. He was so popular and so pious that people petitioned the Pope to make him a saint, which he did. Once Henry VIII dissolved the monasteries, he really didn't know what to do with Edward the Confessor - on one hand, a Catholic saint who was much beloved by the people and could be a focus of Catholicism - but also one of Henry's predecessors. You can't really go around bashing down monuments to other kings if you claim divine right. He left Edward alone, but under Edward VI (Henry's son) people went through the Abbey smashing the heads off statues of saints, and they dug up Edward the Confessor and scattered his bones. Bummer. Bloody Mary collected them and put them back, and Elizabeth got people to leave him alone. We couldn't get close because both it and the surrounding tombs are so old.
We saw Henry VII's chapel, which I didn't think was that great except for the ceiling. It has this magnificent fan pattern, and they have a mirror set up so you can look at it without hurting your neck.
We saw the Poet's Corner, complete with Chaucer's tomb, plaques to non-English people, and a memorial for Handel, for some reason. (The musicians' area was on the other side of the abbey). We also saw a window dedicated to gay poets. "They're all gay, is what that means" is how our professor put it. It had Wilde, Marlowe, I think Pope, and some other people I didn't recognize.
And then we got kicked out because they were starting service.
Tomorrow we're heading to Oxford. I'm hoping to see the Iffley sports center, where Roger Bannister first broke the 4 minute mile - mainly because I think Dad will think it's cool. Plus I'd like to visit the university and see the Anglo-Saxon program. That's where J.R.R. Tolkien was an Anglo-Saxon Studies professor. That'd be sweet.

Haworth, West Yorkshire

To my millions of readers, I most humbly beg your forgiveness. Upon returning from my glorious adventure in Bronte Country, I was most rudely bombarded with homework which sadly necessitated my immediate attention. Having conquered the beast, I may now proceed by describing, in great detail, my excellent experience.

First on the list: the train. I. LOVE. TRAINS. Unlike cars, one does not have to worry about skidding on ice or getting rear-ended by drunk drivers. Unlike planes, one does not feel the need to puzzle about the improbability of a multi-ton piece of metal staying suspended in the air. The train was so smooth and fast...I didn't feel sick. Not once I tell you! In addition to this, watching the lovely countryside whiz past provided endless hours of enjoyment and a good setting in which to daydream. Upon arrival to Keighley (pronounced Keithley), I took a taxi to Haworth that was driven by such a spastic driver that I almost puked all over him. Most fortunately, we arrived just as my face was turning from a delicate green, to a darker shade. I found myself in the middle of a cobblestone street with quaint shops and houses bordering the sides.

Inside the Apothecary Guest House, I was greeted by Russel of the David/Russel brother team. He showed me to my room which was adorable, had an attached bathroom (with hot water!) and a pot for making tea. However, in accordance with E.M. Forster, I must allow that the best element of the room was its view. I had a room with a spectacular vista that even Lucy Honeychurch could not fail to admire. My window overlooked the beautiful old church where the Brontes attended mass. Visible behind that was a Gothic and mysterious cemetery separating the church from the Bronte Parsonage. By crossing the cobblestone street and hiking through this cemetery, I came across the path leading to the moors. More about that adventure in a little while.

The first night, I hiked around the town and visited adorable antique shops, book stores, candy paradises and magnificent bakeries. After grabbing a dinner of Thai spiced pea soup and hunks of white bread, I bought a piece of sticky apple toffee cake. It was PERFECTION. Oh jeez. I'm going to just say that everything I ate that weekend (which was a lot) was amazing or I'll end up writing 5,000 words on all I consumed.

On Saturday, I woke up refreshed after getting a full 10 hours of sleep - the first good sleep I've had in quite a while. I went down to the dining room for breakfast where I met other B and B-ers including a 50-something chap named Martin (pronounced Mahtin). We got to talking as one generally does at B and Bs and he was proud to tell me he knew where Minnesota was. Well, sort of. He thought Fargo was in Minnesota. Close enough, really though. Then David, the other owner, wanted to talk about the Minnesota Twins and asked if they'd won any football matches recently. "Er, David. That would be a no. Because they aren't a football team." However, I didn't tell him that, just smiled politely and nodded and probably looked a bit daft.

Once breakfast was over, I was ready to explore. Not having seen unfiltered sun for a month now, I was caught unawares at the brilliance of the blue, cloudless sky. I had the most perfect day for a hike to Bronte Falls and Top Withins. Now, for those of you who do not know what Top Withins is, it is a skeleton of a farm house commonly thought to be the model for the Earnshaw residence in Emily Bronte's Wuthering Heights. Yeah, pretty cool. I know all you males especially are geeking out right now. Please restrain yourselves.
So I walked through the graveyard to the path. I finally reached Penistone Park. Straight off, I noticed the smell of the animals, the damp soil and the pure air. What a welcome relief after petrol fumes, pollution and smoke of London! Friendly locals in the park often said hi and commented on the beauty of the day saying, "Hullo, dook. It's a foin day foor a hike, ay? Isn't it graidly, loov? You stoomblin' out to Withins, ay? Loovlay, loovlay." (That roughly translates to, "Hi strange girl. Thanks for appreciating our cute village and pouring money into our tourist-based economy. Let's make passing comments about the weather.") After asking some of these locals where the path to Top Withins was located, I finally found my way out of the park, and at the start of the moors. Here I came across a sign that pointed the way towards Top Withins and proclaimed it was a public path. Dear reader, there was no path. So I kind of imagined one and started out only to come across a puddle that was more of a pond than anything. Retracing my steps, I went back to the sign, glared at it, and walked down the road a ways hoping to see another trail. I did! I saw two paths close together and right in between them a sign saying Top Withins. Now my problem became, "which path do you suppose the darn sign is pointing to?" Thus, I went from no paths to two. Picking one, I headed out only to be immediately accosted by a bridge, that was not so much a bridge as what appeared to be a log rolling training exercise. Fifteen red metal, spinning pipes were placed 6 inches apart. Looking both ways, I was surrounded by walls, and had no other way but to go over this bridge-of-sorts. After almost falling several times, I made it across unharmed. This experience taught me that I need to enroll in a log rolling competition at Lumberjack Days.
Having overcome this obstacle, I wandered down the path quite a ways taking pictures as I went, until I was accosted by none other than a male sheep. With his masculine horns pointed at me as he stood in the middle of the path staring me down, I became a bit nervous. However, knowing the percentage of human deaths due to sheep attacks to be slim, I walked onwards while giving his manliness a wide berth of space.

Having passed Sir Macho, I continued my stroll, coming across no one. I have never felt so alone before. Well, at least until a half hour later when the path stopped, I passed a lone farm house in the middle of the moors and came across a sign pointing to Top Withins. Once again, there was no indication of a trail. My conundrum - should I risk being lost forever on the moors in order to see some ruins? Or should I go back? Did I come this far to give up? The answer is no. I did not. Anastos's are not quitters, dammit! So I started out in the general direction the sign was pointing to. Eventually I thought I came across a trail. Oh my gosh! It was a trail! Hallelujah, I was not lost! Although...it was rather a small, skinny trail. No matter....and of course, it did peter off sometimes....but then it always came back....come to think of it, it was kind of strange that I hadn't seen anyone in hours even though I was told many people would be doing this walk....whatever, I was walking the moors! Surely it was just because they were so big, and besides, I started out early...but, the walk was only supposed to be 3.5 miles to get to the ruins, surely I had been walking longer than that...however, 3.5 miles would seem a lot longer on the uneven moors than it would on a concrete path...but why was the trail covered with sheep poop? Oh dear. I was following a path made by the sheep. WELL DONE LAUREN! After following said poopy path for quite a long while, it led me down to a stream, no doubt where my predecessors went to drink. There I saw a man a ways up...I simply had to cross the stream and ask him which way to go. Noting that there was one rock in the middle of the water, I leaped on top of it and then to the other bank. Feeling victorious for one second, I promptly tripped plunging my hands into an icy mud puddle. Oh adventuring! I scrambled up the hill and found the man....and he was on a path. A real path. The path it turns out. I was only a mile away from Top Withins and could see it in the distance. After a steep climb, I got there! I reached it! I may not have walked there in the most conventional or timely manner, but I got to my destination all the same.

Top Withins was absolutely gorgeous! The ruins, which are quite cool in themselves, are situated on one of the higher points of the moors, and the prospect from this point is breathtaking. Looking at the barren landscape that was both beautiful as well as extremely isolating, I started to understand the melancholic overtones of the Bronte's works. After sitting peacefully for a while, I headed back, this time on the people (not animal) path, and ran into a few people doing the same walk. The trail was gorgeous, leading me past the Bronte Waterfall, over streams, and at one point, up a ladder to get over a wall. The walk completed, I went to the bakery, bought some pastries and read bits of Jane Eyre in the book shop.

To anyone in England, I strongly recommend Haworth. The hike was absolutely magnificent, and although I walked at least 9 miles instead of the pre-charted 7, I had a fantastic time being absolutely isolated in the breathtaking countryside.

On my train ride home on Sunday, I noticed that the closer we got to London, the cloudier and darker the sky became. Hmmm...quite ominous, really. And then, of course on my way from the tube back to my flat, I passed Rupert Friend having a cigarette outside Gloucester Arms...the same pub in which we saw Henry Cavill. I then saw Rupert two evenings later as he pushed past me on his way to the theater where he's in a play. Clearly he's stalking me. Keira Knightly better watch out, her boyfriend's becoming too familiar with certain bushy-haired, glasses-wearing brunettes.

Anyhoo. I'm hungry. And as I haven't eaten for a whole 30 minutes, I better get on that.
Tomorrow is Oxford! Can't wait!

Au revoir!
Lauren

P.S. I added pictures to my Windsor post, if you want a visual.

Twelfth Night and the National Gallery

Last night a few of us went to see the Royal Shakespeare Company's Twelfth Night. It was awesome, but the best part was that I was in the fourth row. Oh and we had gotten free tickets. That's right. Since we are between the ages of 16 and 25, we qualify for this special offer that they call A Night Less Ordinary which is aimed at getting more young people to see theatre and Shakespeare. Well, they don't need to know that we all are theatre and Shakespeare nerds and that we really don't need any more encouragement, but if they are going to give us free tickets, heck, we'll take 'em. Anyway, we were super close and the set was amazing. They set the play in a Near East type setting, which was kind of combination of ancient Greece (because of the columns) and Turkey (because of the rugs and the style of dress and the music). And we were able to see all the expressions of the actors who were all wonderful. There was one kind of famous person in it; James Fleet, who played Tom in Four Weddings and a Funeral, was Sir Andrew Aguecheek and was the funniest in the show. Feste, the fool, was a brilliant combination of wittiness and seriousness which is exactly what the role calls for. Viola reminded me (and Maggie) of Julie Andrews and she was excellent. Really, everyone was excellent, although I wasn't sure about Malvolio. They had an older actor play him who looked to be about 70 years old which I thought was maybe too old for that part. He is tricked into thinking that Olivia (who was also played older, like 35-40, rather than 20-25) wants to marry him, but instead of it being funny, I found it more heartbreaking. I think there are elements of both in the written play, but they definitely chose to play up the sympathy for Malvolio whose plot line isn't really resolved. They had him standing next to Feste, who was singing a very sad song as the final visual of the play which really hit home the tragic undertones of this comedy. But to be so close to all these fabulous actors and the set was just fantastic. I know I've enjoyed a play, especially Shakespeare, when I don't notice how long it is while I'm watching it. This play was 3 hours and I definitely didn't care.

Since today is Wednesday, I didn't have class, so I decided to do some wandering. First I went to Fortnum and Mason where I got a sampler pack of their famous teas and a truffle, which the lady gave me for free since I was getting the tea and only wanted one truffle. Well, I wanted ALL the truffles, but I forced myself to only get one. Then I went to the National Gallery and I have to say that I agree with Maggie a little about this gallery. I was a little disappointed. Yes, they have big name artists (what gallery doesn't?) but most of them I wasn't thrilled about. Maggie talked about Van Gogh's Sunflowers and I agree that they weren't all that spectacular. They actually look very sparse, like they are dying, which perhaps is very relevant to Van Gogh's feelings about his future as a painter. A Wheatfield, with Cypresses was definitely my favorite as well. I did like most of the Monet, especially the one called Waterlillies, at Sunset which the gallery has just acquired. Not the typical blues and greens of Monet, but with a lot of pink thrown in. Finally, I was trying hard to like Velazquez's The Toilet of Venus because it reminds me of Titian's Venus of Urbino, which is one of my favorite paintings, but because of that comparison, I didn't think it had the same quality as Titian's work. However, the cafe at the National Gallery is superb with a table of delicious pastries and on Maggie's recommendation, I got this huge Apple Cinnamon muffin and had it when I returned to my flat with a cup of my new Fortnum and Mason tea.

I've booked my trip to Spain for spring break. There are five of us going and tonight we going to figure out where we are going besides Madrid so any suggestions would be welcome! We are thinking either Sevilla or Barcelona, possibly both, but since they are on opposite sides of the country, we are attempting to decide how much time on buses we want to spend.